Glimpses
by Lady Jadealiya
Summary: A series of short pieces inspired by DA:O.


_Author's Note: This set of drabbles were written for the following meme that was going around the DA community shortly after Origins came out. Most of them feature a female city elf Warden._

_1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.  
>2. Turn on your music player and put it on randomshuffle.  
>3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!<br>4. Do ten of these, then post them._

_(I will admit to going back and cleaning things up after the songs were over and skipping a song in German, but otherwise...)_

**Glen Phillips - Gather**

She had a dagger out before she realized her intent, grabbing the Dalish Keeper by the collar and pushing him against the wall.

She screamed at him, shaking him, ranting about the futility of "justice." Didn't he see? Her own path – twisted, blood soaked – had started the same way. And where had it gotten her? Tainted, outcast – saddled with the weight of the blight and completely cut off from her people. She understood – oh, how she understood – but he had the chance she was being denied. To extricate himself from his mess, to save the innocents he had dragged down with him. And Maker help her, he was going to take it or be added to her list of "necessary regrets."

The others could only stare in silence. Until now, they had been blissfully ignorant of this side of her, of the bitter broken damage that lingered just under the façade of the capable leader. But to be fair, so had she.

**Billy Joel - The Night is Still Young**

Years had passed. Love, as with all things, is tempered by time. Priorities shift and crumble – that which you once held sacred beyond all things becomes muted, faded…less.

He had a kingdom to rule, children to raise, a wife to keep happy. She had the wardens to rebuild, an army to organize, dark spawn to kill.

They were unsurprised when they spent less time together. And yet, there were those moments, between the minutiae of the mundane, when a casual word, a touch, a look would invoke everything they were. Everything they could have been.

Those nights, it didn't matter that time and distance had taken their toll. They fell into each other with the same need each had felt in that other life so long ago.

**3 Doors Down – Be Like That**

Shortly after his "recruitment," one of the master assassins walked through the hovel where they were being kept. He walked with purpose, his clothing finer than anything the ladies of the brothel had ever dreamed of wearing, all easy grace and attentive danger. The other masters kept a step behind him, their previous superiority replaced by an almost humble, awe-struck, groveling desire to please.

Zevran sat up a little taller when he walked by. Envision your target, the men had said. Know your goal otherwise you are no use to us. This might not be such a bad life if one could aspire to be…that.

Feared. Honored. Beautiful. Yes. That he could get used to.

**Pink Floyd – Eclipse**

Forget. Empty your mind of your companions. They are not important. Your love left behind. Not important. The nobles and their petty games. The mages flirting with dangers beyond the veil. The ills done against your people.

Forget them. Focus. There is only the great dragon, bleeding on the tower stones. The blight bringer – archdemon. Fallen god.

See nothing else. Think of nothing else, less everything else be lost.

**Tori Amos- Muhammad my Friend**

One of the Dalish children smiled at her, reaching up a slender finger to trace the lines on her face.

"You've been marked for Andruil"

"Andruil?"

The child nodded, eyes bright. "The Goddess of the Hunt. Those are her marks. But you aren't Dalish."

Touching the lines, the warden frowned. "My mother…she wore the same marks. She said it was something passed down in her family but…I don't think she knew it was for a specific goddess."

"Oh. Well…are you a hunter? Have you made your first kill? Do you still have the pelt?"

She could still see them. The Bann's guards. One of their daggers was still tucked into her belt.

"Yes, actually. I suppose I do…"

**Works Progress Administration – Always Have my Love**

They didn't understand. He could still see the dumbfounded expressions, hear the foolish comments.

She was so…distant. Cold. Truly?

I understand why you slept with her, but come on now…nice tits are always for sale at the pearl, no need to turn the world over for one set in particular.

There is…so much more that needs to be done. So much good you can do. You would throw that away for…well, for someone who doesn't want to be found?

Yes. Yes he would. They may not understand, but really…that was the point. Of all his companions, she had been the only one who ever came close to understanding.

He had already done his good turn for the world. Been the unselfish hero. Now his efforts would be spent reclaiming that which was already his…even if she was too stubborn and proud to admit it.

**Jarvis Cocker - I Will Kill Again**

He tried to keep her on the straight and narrow, bless his heart. She was the people's hero, the council's advisor, and (worst kept secret in the kingdom…) the king's mistress. He paraded her around for the public, asked for (and mostly followed) her advice, lavished her in gifts worthy of any queen…

But time and time again, she found herself delving back into the shadow kingdom behind the throne. Organizing "accidents" for the more closed minded nobles, challenging herself with stupid heists that would badly embarrass her king and kingdom both if she were ever caught. Eschewing the public powerbase she had created through Alistair in favor of less traditional gains.

She didn't have to. But it was so hard to walk away. Apparently, one could take the girl out of the Alienage, but not the other way around.

**Snow Patrol – Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking**

Did she notice how his hand lingered as he guided her strike towards the imagined weak spot in their imagined foe's armor? In their sparring, did she notice when he demonstrated how the crows avoided incoming blows, how he brushed against her, stealing a passing intimacy even as he lectured about the importance of speed and surprise in his style of fighting?

Did she know how he lay awake sleepless when they retired to their tent, listening to their lovemaking, mentally cataloging the techniques he could show her, given the chance?

Ahh, but she was observant. There was so little she missed….so, he had to wonder. Did she not speak of it to be polite? Or because, in the dark of night after their play, she wondered what it would be to slip into his tent and continue her tutelage.

It was a pleasant thought.

**Tori Amos – Horses**

The chantry encouraged the devote to seek solitude in times of need if they felt it would better serve their journey towards the Maker. Leliana took full advantage, tending to the gardens, meditating in the woods, seeking the inner sanctum in the dead of night.

The others, when they sought this solitude, would meditate, pray. Leliana would dance.

It was never her intent – a slow and measured pacing would pick up in tempo, the slight sway of her arms would arc over her head seemingly of their own will. Music would sound in the sacred silence of her head and she would remember – balls and conquests, the lies, the masks, the games…and the music. Oh the music…

But, in the end, she would stop – embarrassed, upset. Not that her mind turned to such frivolities, the trapping of her pervious life…she was, after all, only human and early on her journey towards enlightenment.

But rather, upset that she was alone. Above all she missed having an audience. What good a dance without a partner, a song without a band, a clean kill or well placed lie without a cherished mentor to tell you "Well done my love…well done…"

**"Wicked" Original Broadway Cast - No Good Deed**

She replayed the scene in her head, night after night. The one time he refused to follow her orders. The one time he took it upon himself to take action.

Why then? Why, of all the opportunities to assert his independence, why in that moment? She had been ready to give her life to the blight. Knowing she left behind her a worthy king, knowing that the world would remember.

But no. He took that from her. Condemned her, her alone to become the living mentor the wardens craved (the family she had never wanted, never asked for) condemned her to serve under a queen she hated (who hated her…) condemned her to the guilt, the pain, the loss.

She hated him. She hated him even as she loved him.

(No. She hated him because she loved him…)


End file.
